


If I were a Mockingbird..

by PrincessSkittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alayne - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, Mockingbird - Freeform, Older Sansa, Petyr, Petyr relationship, Sansa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessSkittles/pseuds/PrincessSkittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a modern AU, of today canada, in which Sansa is on the run from Petyr as Alayne...and they have a son!  Popped into my head at work, and thought I would give it a try. This is my first GoT story, so please rate and comment, constructive criticism  welcome :) This is just a teaser chapter, to test the waters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bitter and the Sweet

A high pitched squeal filled the hazy summer air, and the young woman looked across the lawn to her son, a small smile playing on her lips. His feather light chestnut hair (such contrast to her own crimson mantle) flew in the wind as his little legs carried him as fast as able after the group of children that had attended his birthday party. Named for Sansa's eldest brother Robb, he had the Stark look, and would make a handsome young man. At five years old, he was still slight and lean, smaller then other kids his age, but then neither of his parents were particularly large.  
At the thought of his father, Alayne shivered in the August heat, from fear or something else she wasnt sure. The last time she had seen him was the night they ran, when she confronted him about the files that were in his office. There had been alot of yelling and a decanter of whiskey had exploded next to his head when he got angry with her for snooping. Not a very loving farewell, but she packed their son into a cab that night and didn't look back.  
A light hand on her shoulder caused her to gasp and turn in suprise, knocking the pitcher of iced tea to the grass in the process. Cheeks heating with embarrassment, she bend to collect the empty jug, refusing to meet her sisters eyes.

That didnt stop Arya from bending and laying a hand on her siblings, in a gentle show of support. "Its alright to think of him Alayne, you dont have to hide it." They had had many similar conversations within the confines of their small Stark property, but it did not seem to matter, her sister was not willing to speak, or even to think of Petyr Baelish. Arya knew that eventually his lies would be the end of their destructive relationship, she just had to be patient and keep nudging Sansa in the right direction. Her sister may have changed her name to Alayne Stone in hopes of making them alittle harder to find, should they ever get word of Petyr searching for Sansa, but to Arya she would always be Sansa Stark. The two had grown undeniably closer since her sister and nephew made their sudden appearance on her doorstep three years ago. Arya had been an invaluable source of love, distraction and help for Sansa, she knew, and their days of sibling rivalry and bickering seemed so far in the past.

 

Slipping an arm around her older siblings shoulders, Arya gave a squeeze and smiled. "Robby seems to be enjoying himself, I think you might have to change his clothes." Her son was dripping with water, wearing a wild grin as he waved his watergun in the air at his mother, and Alayne waved back, grateful for her sons love.

 

Later that night, as she was tucking her freshly scrubbed son into his Avengers bed, Alayne let her thoughts wander to the day her sweet Robb had been born, one of the few truly happy memories she shared with Petyr. She had been eighteen, five years ago and the day had been cold, deep in the rocky mountains, attended by no more then two midwives and Petyr. Her hand clenched his, and though pain flashed in both their eyes, he had looked so feircly proud as their son came forth into the snowy world. Afterward they had sat propped in the bed together, their tiny miracle sleeping in her arms, a heavy warm weight. His hand had smoothed the hair on the side of her head, as her cheek lay against his solid chest. A groan and stirringfrom the bed brought her mind back to her body, and she realized her cheeks were wet. Giving Robbs sweet smelling hair one last kiss, Alayne stood and clicked off his lamp, leaving the door open a crack. The boy had no idea who his father was, nor did he seem very interested, for now. And that was fine with her.


	2. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash backs and info, please comment I want to hear opinions and suggestions :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly backstory, trying to give some idea as to their history. There will be more info in coming chapters, especially once Sansa and Petyr meet up. I know there isn't much action yet, but I feel its important to get the basic stuff out before the story really takes off. Next chapter will be longer!  
> And yes, I have changed the ages of Sansa and Petyr fron their original cause 14 and 30's doesn't sound so good to me.

A headache played at the back of Petyr's eyes, and he sighed, running both hands through his slowly greying hair. In truth he had been greying since his twenty-second year, just slightly more every few years. Shoving his chair away from the mahogany desk and closing his laptop, he decided it would be wise to give up his fruitless search for another few hours. It had been three years since he last heard any news of his estranged wife and son. Atleast, he still considered Sansa his wife, and wondered briefly if the white gold and emerld ring he had given her when Robb was born still adorned her slender finger.

Petyr's stomach clenched and he raised the whiskey glass to his lips, swallowing his pain. One day he would see them again. He was close, he knew, and when that day came, Petyr would gladly fall at her feet and lay all the truths out for her- well part of them anyway. His dealings with the Lannister family had ceased shortly after Sansa had found the proof of his treachery, but they still contacted him every once in awhile, wanting information about various things. Tiredness burned at his eyes and his body felt weary, older then his thirty-five years. He would be the first to admit that he had not been taking proper care of himself, since his tragic good-bye to the beauty he had grown to love. Oh, he still made sure to look presentable and clean, appearances were everything after all, but he was frequently missing meals, and his sleep pattern was non-existant.  
Using supple hands to brace himself on the wood of his desk, Petyr heaved his weary form out of the leather seat and took another gulp of fiery liquid, relishing in the numbness that took over, if only for awhile. His bed called to him, but unfortunately sleep did not. He lay awake for hours, always going back to that last night with Sansa. 

Her usual ivory complexion had been a red to match her hair, blue eyes glinting hard. He had been furious with her for going through his drawers, still was weeks after she had fled, and it had taken Petyr a long while to realize that Sansa had every right to be upset, even to hate him alittle. He had treated his family like pawns, used them without their consent or knowledge, for that he lost everything, and now he was paying for it. Petyr's overworked mind drifted to the first time he met Sansa, at a lunch date with the Starks, the property long since burned. He hadn't seen Catlyn since she married Eddard, and they had been a welcome sight, even if he had to tolerate Neds presence. Sansa had entered the dining room, dressed in loose silk, a summer dress the colour of her eyes, cheeks flushed with the carefree pink of youth. She was but 16 and the most beautiful creature he had ever had the pleasure of observing, even more so then her mother, seated at his side. As Petyr stood to greet the maid, he noticed with astonishment that he was eye level with her, azure staring into smokey green. The shock when his slight hands grasped her smaller ones in greeting was something time could never erase. Perhaps there was a small bit of truth in the whispers of people, who were witness to the budding romance between the unlikely couple. But that was in the beginning, soon loving Sansa had nothing at all to do with her resemblance of Catelyn, and everything to do with the girl herself. Petyr fisted the cotten sheet in frustration and longing. Whoever had set him up would pay, a dearer price then he himself was now. When not seeking his family, Petyr spent hours poking under every rock and in every crack for clues to who had ended his brief marriage. 

Someone planted the files containing his involvement in the handing over of Ned Stark to the Lannisters, right where Sansa was sure to find it. Petyr Baelish was never foolish enough to leave evidence of his..dealings, in his own home. His young wife's hatred for the prominent political family was no secret, so it was only natural to assume that if her husband was in bed with them and she found out, shit would hit the proverbial fan.  
Petyr threw an arm over his burning eyes and groaned. There would be no visit from the sandman tonight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alayne sighed in contentment, hands wrapped around her coffee, legs drawn up to her chest, seated on her favorite wicker chair. Mornings like this were rare, Robb waking up at the crack of dawn, and often before his mother and aunt, left Alayne with little time to take in the sunrise. The fog blanketed the still, purple and red waters, reflecting the fiery colouring of the sky. Times like these she was grateful for the wealth of her family. A small acreage walled by mountains, and bordering a lake with enough room to feel free, hidden enough to feel safe. Most of the time. She often found herself mourning the loss of the manor she and her family grew up in, but it was no more then a blackened skeleton, grave to her parents and brothers. Because of him.  
A shudder ran through her petite frame as she recalled the printed phone records, highlighted to reveal long conversations between her so called husband and the murderous Cercei. There were other sheaves of information, emails regarding the trade made by Petyr, surrendering Ned and Cat, in exchange for Sansa's life. The boys weren't part of the bargain, just unlucky enough to be present when the hired men doused their home in gasoline and threw the match. Charred bodies asleep in their beds were all that remained of her loved ones. Atleast she still had Arya, who had been over at Alayne's the night of the tragic burning. Her thoughts turned to the relationship she shared with Petyr before everything went to hell, Four blissful years of what she thought was love and honesty had turned to ash at the reality of who Petyr Baelish really was. And now her main goal in life was to keep petyr from learning the location of her and Robb.


	3. Come, sit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two didnt really go where I wanted, so hopefully this works better. Comment and suggest :) Trying to be original..

The summer past in a series of early mornings, and late nights, with flurries of activity in between. As much for her own sake as Robb's, Alayne kept them as busy as humanly possible, constantly on the move, never in one place for longer then needed.. She took them to farmers markets in town, camping trips to the back country, berry picking in the lush hills on the other side of their lake. There was certainly no lack of things to do in the Kootenay's, and before she knew it, the days began to grow shorter, and in just one week her baby boy would start school.

That was another worry, set to gnawing at the edges of her brain when she should be asleep. Shutting the taps off, Alayne untied her robe and let it puddle at her feet, soaking in the silence and steam for a moment, before slipping into her sea of bubbles. It was not often she afforded herself luxuries such as me time, and when the opportunity for a snatch of quiet arose, who was there to deny her? But school.. sighing softly, Alayne brought the hot cloth to rest over her tired eyes and considered their options. Registering him for kindergarten under Stark or Baelish was obviously out of the question, Petyr would descend upon them as soon as the boys name was entered into the system. If they were to home school Robby, he would still need to be registered, and if they managed to put registration off, it was only a matter of time before people started questioning why. The only way out of this, as far as Alayne could see, was to pack up and go somewhere no one knew the pair, in order to give her son a new identity. 

Arya was against the whole thing, stating that if Petyr was to find them, they would simply call up a favor with someone still loyal to the Stark family, and have him removed from their lives. That was her sisters solution to most things, but Alayne feared their list of trusted friends was short, and who could they really trust? Her husband's reach was far, containing a host of Police, lawyers and other such officials and not all of them his friends. Some had been obtained through blackmail and favors owed to help they received from him, she knew.  
Peeling the now cold cloth from her face , Alayne brought her soapy hands up from the water and reached for her glass of wine, a red vintage from Italy, so dark it glowed almost black against the candlelight. The same wine she sipped with Petyr, the first time she had been truly alone with him, seated on the soft velvet loveseat in his home office. Sinking back into the tub, Alayne allowed the memory to push through. Sometimes it was nice to remember the feeling that filled her whenever they interacted, then again sometimes it was torture. 

~~Flashback~~

Inky black clouds swirled abover her, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder and Sansa inwardly groaned, pulling up the hood of the jacket to cover her ruby curls. Just her luck, to be caught in the rain so far from her destination, and without an umbrella. Arya should have just said yes when father asked her to bring this folder to Petyr Baelish, but instead she had made up some lame excuse and ran out the door, earbuds in place as to be deaf to the shouts of their sire. Sometimes the older girl swore that more then three years seperated the siblings, with Sansa being 16 and Arya 13. With no one else home, it was up to Sansa to run the errand, Neds leg being splinted and bandaged from some mystery accident. She was reluctant to go inside Petyr's house alone, afraid of those eyes and what they did to her.Feelings of warmth and a curiosity about the older man that she was unable to share with anyone else, especially her family.

A tall man, white haired and caramel skinned answered the door dressed in a classic butlers uniform and Sansa stiffled a giggle. She had never truly seen such before, now adays either a maid or the occupants of these castle like homes answered the doors. He peered down at her, a small smile playing on his thin lips. "Can I help you, young miss?" Pulling the manilla folder out of her jacket, she placed it in the mans waiting hand. "My father, Eddard Stark, sent this for Mr.Baelish. He said its to go straight to Pe-Mr.Baelish." The butler smiled in amusement and handed the papers back to the puzzled girl, stepping aside and waving her forward. "By all means, then you must make sure it gets there." His accent was flavored with something she couldn't place, cajun perhaps, and his words were gentle, teasing. Cheeks burning, Sansa placed her foot over the threshold, and stepped into a marble foyer. Compared to the stormy outside, the soft golden light of the chandelier seemed very inviting, and she found herself smiling and shrugging off her jacket, laying it over her arm. The black cashmere knee length dress she wore went well with her ankle high black boots, and Sansa was grateful her hair wasn't a sopping mess. Catching a glimpse of herself in a gilded mirror, she was startled by how much older she looked. Suddenly nervous, and unsure of herself, she turned to the quietly waiting servant, and motioned at him to carry on.

Petyr Baelish had a dark, rich taste in decore, and as such, had filled his home with hunter greens, navy blues and burgundy. Velvets and brocades covered the windows and furniture, the floor under her feet polished to a honey colour. Large portraits of what had to have been ancestors lined the hall they now walked, staring down at her through stern grey-green eyes. Twisted brass candle holders spaced the frames, and one plain maple door sat at the end of the walkway. Stopping behind her guide, Sansa fiddled with her hair, heart fluttering with nerves. Why was she so jumpy? Was he not just a family friend?

He was seated behind a deep red desk that seemed to take up half the room, piled with papers and a laptop. Petyr raised his head at the intrusion and green eyes widened in suprise, as he drank in Sansa's appearance. Her cheeks were a soft pink and he swallowed. What in the world had brought her to his office at nine at night? Smiling to hide his confusion, and delight, Petyr came around his desk and beckoned her to enter. "What do I owe this pleasure to, my dear?" His voice was low, brow raised, satisfaction playing in his eyes as they were left alone, and Sansa momentarily forget her reason for standing before him. He wore a plain black silk shirt, top few buttons undone to reveal a trace of dark chest hair, black dress pants, hair orderly. A god stood before her, and realizing she was staring, shot her eyes up to meet his amused ones. "Would it have something to do with what your holding?" His voice held a teasing note, and to his utter amazment her skin went from pink to a red so bright he thought she was like to faint. 

Shoving the envelope into his unready hands, Sansa spun and made to open the door, but Petyr grabbed her wrist and gently turned her around to face him. "Im sorry little one, I should not make fun. Come sit, and talk for a moment. I might have to call Martin to drive you home, its starting to rain." There was a trace of amusement lingering in his eyes, but his tone was gentle, and she allowed herself to be drawn to the small couch by the fire. The place where his fingers lightly held her wrist still tingled and her breathe seemed thin. Heart pounding, Sansa met his gaze next to hers and smiled tentively, turning slightly to face him. "There was a message with the papers my father sent. 'Bring them in.'" She watched his expression to see if he would react but his eyes remained blank and he nodded, standing. Whatever her father had meant by that small statement escaped Sansa, she had pondered its meaning the entire walk here. 

When Petyr sat again, there was a foot of space seperating their bodies, and he pressed a stem of glass into her hand, no more then a splash of wine in the bottom, his own half full. Atleast he wasn't trying to get her drunk. "Your mother says you graduate next year and are off to Europe to study Latin and literature. Thats quite the adventure hmm?" His soft voice sent warmth coursing through her blood and she took a slow sip of the heady, dark liquid before answering, never breaking eye contact. The wine made her bold, daring her to play the role of woman. Sansa smiled softly, leaning in to brush Petyr's shoulder lightly with hers, and whisper. "Don't tell her, but Im very excited to go. I think I've outgrown this small town..and the people in it." His laugh was a pleasurable thing, a low rumble from his chest. "I might have to agree with you there Sansa, this town was not made for the likes of you. Europe will benefit from your presence. " His gaze trailed lazily from her eyes, down to her breasts and continued, lingering on the slender legs crossed infront. 

She shivered and his eyes returned to her face, the look of amusement returning. "We should get you home, little one. Surely it's nearing bedtime. " His words were like cold water, once again reminding her of the difference in age. Face flaming, she stood and stammered a thank you for the wine. Why did she ever think she could play this game?  
In the end, Petyr escorted her to his garage, politely helping her into the back of the Rolls Royce and bidding her a goodnight. Sansa could not meet his eyes, mumbled a farewell and pretended to fix her seatbelt. When the door shut, she could have sworn she heard a chuckle.  
~~~~~~  
Th water had grown cold by the time Alayne opened her eyes, returning to her body. Yanking the drain with anger, she shoved on her robe, still dripping and threw herself down in bed. What a foolish girl she had been, to believe it was her Petyr wanted, that she wasn't just a peice of his secret plans. In the morning, she would make sure to tell Robb about the move. She had the perfect place in mind.


	4. The Illusion of Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it has taken so long to update, life gets in the way sometimes. Here it is, working on next chapter now, it will be longer, half done already so shouldn't take long. Enojy, rate, comment :)

Not much had changed about the serene town in five short years, the same battered, faded sign welcomed the small family, just as Alayne remembered. Arya had insisted on accompanying them to their new lives,'to get you settled in.' But they both knew it was simply curiosity, not only to see where they would be starting over, but the chance to glimpse the house where Robb had been born, and Sansa had lived in blind happiness with Petyr. Robb had seemed to take the news fairly well, having very few friends to leave behind, it seemed more like an adventure. The promise of a possible pet helped things along, perhaps a dog would be a sound investment.

Pulling the mazda3 into the street, Alayne grew anxious at the thought of being back to where they had run from.True, the chances of Petyr thinking shewould take their son back to his hometown was slight, it seemed too obvious a choice. A two level plus basement house loomed infront of the trio, grey-blue siding with royal blue trim, it was a handsome building. And all hers. Petyr had the property signed in Sansa's name shortly after Robb was born. A safe place, he said.There would no doubt be a thick layer of dust coating everything, but with a bit of cleaning everything could be good. Turning to Robb, Alayne flashed a brilliant smile. "We're here honey, do you want to unlock the door and see your new room?" It was a simple thing, but the very mention of his new room had the young boy's face lit up like the sun.

It took a bit of work to turn the lock, but eventually the door swung open, sending a cloud of dust into the air at the disturbance. The familiar scent of fresh laundry and whatever had been baked during the day that used to fill the rooms was non-existant, bringing a suprised feeling of sadness. There used to be love here, warmth. But maybe the two of them could make a new home here. She wanted nothing more. Their footsteps echoed through the once polished halls, reminding Alayne that she would have to buy some runners for the hardwood floors. Robb ran ahead to the stairs, vaulting up the steps two at a time. It was a great weight off her mind, to know that her son would have no problems adjusting. Arya was already stumbling in with an armload of luggage, chin jammed above the pile, and Alayne ran to give her sister a hand before she broke her neck.

It took most of the afternoon to unload, and it was a quick dinner of pizza in between dusting and sweeping, giving Robby odd jobs here and there. Midnight had come before the sisters decided to finally throw down their rags and sit, taking a moment to appreciate their hours of hard labor. The windows and surfaces gleamed, and there were no more families of dust bunnies hiding in the corners. The little guy was passed out on the mattress in his room, the truck with the box springs and other big items not having arrived yet. The place was starting to look homey. Alayne smiled softly at the thought of making breakfast in the morning, In her old kitchen, same white lace curtains and honey coloured cabinets. Arya would be heading back shortly after that, and then it would be just the two of them. That thought made her a bit sad, she had never been truly alone, first with her family, then Petyr and now Arya. Would she be able to make it work? As if reading her thoughts, Arya reached out to grasp Alayne's hand, squeezing tightly. "You'll be fine, your strong. And if you have any problems you can come back to my place, I hope you know that." Eyes tearing, the two women hugged goodnight, both holding in yawns of exaustion.

Alayne made her way to the former guest bedroom slowly, refusing to sleep within the same walls her and Petyr had made love so many times. The living room was off to her right, the stairs leading up, to the left, dark chestnut steps draped in pale blue carpeting. A small hall straight ahead led to the large kitchen and a half bathroom in the back, altogether a comfortably sized house. Taking her time in climbing the stairs, Alayne noticed that there were still a few photos of herself, Robb and Petyr adorning the wall as it ascended the upper level. Those would have to be removed on the morrow, it wouldn't do to have people recognizing them. It had been a week of Alayne fretting over whether or not the township of Bottomless Lake (fondly referred to as Bottom, so named for the endlessly deep lake north of the town) would realize who the Stones were, but she had come to the conclusion that they Would be safe enough. During their two year stay in Bottom, the family of three had mostly kept to themselves, Petyr running most of the errands and Alayne staying at home like a dutiful little wife. With him out of the picture and the recent change in hair colours, they reasoned no one would question the identity of Robb and Alayne stone.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Petyr was beyond frustrated with the whining and sniveling of one Joffery Baratheon, but had enough sense to hold his tongue, at least in front of Cersei. "I want that traitorous bitch found and quartered! I want her whipped and given to those Pimps downtown, they can make her a whore! Why has no one found her?!" The question was punctuated by a pathetic stomp of his Armani shoe, hands clenched tightly at his side. The three of them were standing in Tywin Lannister's buisness office, having a very dull and annoyingly high pitched discussion on the location of Sansa Stark. So far it had been nearly two hours of pointless debate on her possible location, and Jofferys whining at the loss of his favorite toy. Petyr's nerves were worn through, and his arm itched with the urge to put the cretin in his place, the way everyone seemed so reluctant to do. It would seem that he taught his little wife to well the art of concealment, if the Lannister Hound could not sniff the girl out. Although in her twenties she was hardly a girl anymore. He was determined to find them first, keep them safe from the reach of the Golden Lions. It was just a matter of getting ahold of the right information. 

The clearing of a throat brought his mind back to his body, only to notice three pairs of eyes on him, all glaring. "I'm sorry, repeat that if you would be so kind." A small smirk graved his lips and elicited a growl from Cersei. "Have you received word from your source in Canada? I trust that I Don't have to remind you, your life relies on your usefulness in locating your...woman. We allowed you to keep her alive, in return for your warning when the Starks were to close to the truth. You were suppose to control her, not let her slip away with our secrets!" Her voice had escalated from a dangerous whisper to a shout, her ivory face and chest turning an amusing shade of burgundy. Tywin laid his hand on his daughters arm, trying to calm her rage. Petyr had listened to the same speech for the last three years, always the same words. "I assure you, my contacts do their best. If there is no information to be had, then there is nought to be done. If she should show her face up North, we will be notified. Now if you'll excuse me, I have dinner arrangements." Bowing his head to Tywin, he turned on his heel and left the trio to argue amongst themselves. More pressing issues were crowding Petyr's mind, like how he could keep the bloody fool alive, if he couldn't find her.


End file.
